Tool of Destruction
by Kuroitsuki
Summary: The tale of Black Waltz no. 3, as told by Kuroi Mahotsukai. Finally complete.
1. Shining

Well, you know the drill. Insert disclaimer here... Final Fantasy IX does not belong to me, nor does any of its characters. *sad sigh* --;

I'm back with more readables. Here's the story of Black Waltz 3-san (yes yes I know I said I was gonna do something for 2 but I didn't yet. TT Sorry!) as my imagination sees it. I'm the allpowerful author in this one, so be prepared for excessive wierdness, distortion of the presented truth, etc., but maybe you'll like it. ^^ Who knows!?

-Kuroi Mahotsukai

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There was a light. A beautiful light. A light shining with the full brilliance of life, with happiness, with consciousness. It shone with love, a pure, giving love, a sweet and maternal love, spreading its glow to everything in existence. While it was present, everything was perfect, everything was complete and calm, kind, and warm, as warm as the deepest reaches of the heart...

Then it decided to go away, and to never come back.

He cried out for it, trying to reach for it, and grasping only darkness. Panicking, he thrashed out into the shadows, growing dizzy from the severity of the motion, and shrinking back in towards a center. The change of current started a slow bolt of crippling thunder starting at the back of his head, seeping in and pouring through his blood, down his fragile, newborn nerves, running out along his arms and legs, and striking with terrible claws at something beyond his shoulder blades. He squirmed, ripples pooling outwards from an uncontrollable trembling, yet he did not attempt to find the light again.

His fear of the eternal shadow embracing him slowly faded, and he relaxed, letting the... something absorb the tensions the lightning had caused. He felt he had reached safety again, and he dropped into a state of quiet content, allowing the little streams of evil to seep into his mind.

_You will not mourn. You will not fear. You will not laugh. You will not cavort or play. You will not doubt. You will not cry._

Each command settled quietly down upon him, leaving their imprint where they lay. As they worked their evils upon him, he drifted into oblivion, totally unaware of what was happening.

~*~*~

Kuja smiled up at his creation, watching streams of black and silver floating about him in his chamber, sinking into him, marking him for his dark purpose. The creature was swathed in dark blue robes, with touches of red, a death color, and white, a color of strength. A wide-brimmed hat concealed his face, shadowed heavily to an almost pure black. Kuja did not yet know the color of his eyes; yellow, most likely, but there had been one born with eyes a shade of palest azure. The most remarkable thing about this figure were the graceful raven wings arched behind him, blue-black feathers seeming to give off their own shine. He radiated magic, veritably seething with that destructive power, though it would be long until he would be able to use it. Physically, he was still a child, but that would quickly change.

The silver-haired man had confidence that this one was a success. The others he had created before him had not demonstrated such power so early on, nor were they so quick to learn what was incorrect behavior. His very first attempt had not turned out as he liked it, but he had learned from his errors and succeeded in making a decent creature upon his second attempt. Though those served his purposes, he needed stronger ones... ones he could use in certain situations where the most powerful magic was needed. A little too much creativity got involved in the creation of this strengthened version, and he failed horribly. Yet he decided to keep it to see what he could do with it in dire times. The next was a great improvement, but born too quirky and too excitable from the heat of its inner magic. But now... yes. He had taken the best of his other designs and combined them to create a great weapon...

No... not a great weapon, not yet. A potential... tool of destruction...

Kuja shook off his moment of gloating to look at the creature amidst the liquid Mist again. With the work of the negativity done, the little thing rested in a sleeplike state, utterly relaxed and motionless. The element of stability Kuja needed in his soldiers was indeed present. He found himself almost praising how utterly adorable it was as a child... but he refrained. The last thing he needed was a "cute" little warrior of evil. Yet, the way its wings lay folded and how it balanced elegantly in the distorted gravity within the chamber was quite charming...

_That is how they survive, children,_ Kuja thought to himself. _They are so totally defenseless... they must appeal to those of us with strength..._

A child of destiny, a gem of death just beginning to crystallize. He blinked slowly. Strange how the Mist-monster could bear such resemblance to himself...

Kuja tossed away those thoughts, now staring intently at the wings of his subject. The sky was one of the things _he_ wanted... it was almost painful to give it away to someone... some_thing_ else. He had fashioned them absentmindedly in one of his earlier experiments, and decided he liked the idea of winged soldiers of mass destruction. He had been rather sloppy in the beginning, but now was meticulously accurate with each little feather on perfectly proportional wings. He had ringed this one's neck with a collar of luxurious feathers... he almost made himself jealous. He thought of the creatures flying... flying gracefully, preferably, through the sky, waltzing through the stars on their wings...

"That's what you are," he whispered softly to his creation, which had shifted slightly as if something troubled its sleep. "A Black Waltz... Black Waltz no. 3."

---

--; I have to fix my problem with short chapters. Good? Bad? Should I continue? ^^ 


	2. Innocence

I don't have time to copy disclaimers over and over, so read the previous chapter's. Kuroi says it applies to both.

Okay, I went ahead and wrote Chapter 2, even though few asked me to. ^^;; I wanted to anyway, this fic is fun to write. It gets a bit more, uh, violent here, but it's not that striking. Read on?

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He had become half accustomed to the cycle of the bright and dark by then. He lapsed into long periods of restful stillness, then would pull himself away from it to spend some time looking out into the strange, colorful, light-filled world he couldn't reach. Something lay between him and that spectacle, something strangely solid, separating his existence from that of the colors and moving shapes. Moving, conscious minds, floating in and out with their wispy whiteness swirling about them. Eyes... dark eyes, light eyes, peering up towards him. Those gazes made him feel like he was being pressed backwards, away from them.

Those souls would come and go, draw near and then grow distant again. Their ability to push against the pulling force of gravity was amazing; he was not nearly that strong. Constantly roaming, they would appear before him for a moment, then meander off in a different direction, in total control. He watched them, astounded for a while, then curious, and then viewed them with a deep dislike.

He opened his eyes a slit. A crooked one had come, long, bony fingers stroking at dials and buttons delicately, almost nervously. The soul's crystal-framed gaze snuck towards him, then quickly darted back to what he was doing when he realized that the other was awake. He knew this one. This creature of edges and lines came often, dancing his hands at machinery, and fading away. The coolness would often become heavy and intoxicating after he left, bribing him to drift away again. He disliked this one most of all.

He forced his arm up until he could push against the shell holding him in and tapped his fingers against the barrier. The thing's nervous look shot up again, and this time did not flee, eyes growing round and full of trepidation. He tapped his fingers against the solidity again, and the figure stepped back, grew blurry, and then vanished.

*~*

Kuja's gaze was directed towards the Black Waltz, but he did not see the small creature sleeping like an angel... a dark angel... within the liquid Mist, but something more, something to come of the great event about to unfold. He had been disappointed with the liberation of the first two, neither able to maintain consciousness in the thin air, but he had high hopes for this one, his triumph, his ambition almost perfectly realized.

The silvery warrior began to chuckle softly under his breath, as he reached up to lightly finger a forbidden key. "Sorry to disturb your dreams," he whispered sweetly before he struck it with the gentlest, most soft touch of his signature spell.

There was a great moan from the chamber. The Waltz's eyes opened as the liquid Mist began to vibrate within its container. He blinked with confusion as its heavy center pulled towards the front, its great mass causing the whole room to quake. Something new rose in him, that he had never felt before, and would have regarded curiously if it had not been for the severity of the current situation. He was completely and utterly terrified.

The glass gates exploded outwards, the Mist leaping towards Kuja in a mass of blue-gray foam, the Black Waltz cast mercilessly to the ground. Upon striking the heat of the air, the Mist evaporated, becoming curling clouds of toxic matter, and began rising towards the ceiling, where it prowled in silvery sheets.

Three's mind was filled with flashes of burning red pain. He choked miserably until an instinct kicked in and he breathed, taking ragged gulps of air, and began to cough and splutter on the strange substance. Fire cut into his eyes and he shut them tightly to it, but it continued to rip into his flesh and wings with a vengeance, fanning his fear. His ears were set on fire from the severity of the noise he had just begun to perceive. He thrashed miserably, desperately struggling to find his way back to the safety and comfort of the cool chamber of darkness.

Kuja simply smiled at the writhing child, watching as he ran out of energy and began to concentrate on respiration. Time ticked by, and the Waltz slowly began to loosen the knots in his limbs and rest against the cold floor. The young man knelt by him, maintaining that sinister smirk, gazing at the patch of darkness beneath the hat. The little mage slowly opened an eye to look up at Kuja, a beautiful, red-gold eye, darker than those of the others, but still bright, shining like a distant sun. The silver-haired man's grin widened, pleased with the prophecy of destruction, and stood, motioning for a guard.

"Take him to the prepared room," he laughed, with a nonchalant air. "Oh, and do be careful with him. I want him to be in perfect condition for the... experiment."

Three peered into that pale face, framed with feathery silver, then winced with pain and shut his eyes as a guard picked him up and carried him under an arm. Every step hurt him terribly, making him cringe from pain in his chest and frail, nervously fluttering heart. It seemed to go on forever before there was a pause, then a second, involuntary leap against something solid yet soft and something very solid, hard, and painful that hit him squarely in the forehead.

He battled with unconsciousness for a while, then dared slowly look out at the world again. His eyes were watery, but he could see make out blurry, colorful shapes. The colors were even more vivid than those he had seen through the coolness... deep, angry colors and colors of unease, mostly. It took a little while for his vision to focus, in which time he became very interested in a dark line which was apparently what he had bumped his head on.

His curiosity was very strong, but he couldn't make much of it out from that angle. He closed his eyes halfway and asked himself if he could manage to move. He was still aching terribly, but found that the gravity was much less in the free air, and after minimal struggling had righted himself to the point that he had a clear view of the object. A dark line... a dark line leading to something glittering and magnificent, curved, and beautiful. He stared at it, then slowly leaned back into a kneeling position and tried touching it.

The dark, hard part he had hit himself on felt smooth and pleasant. He ran his hands up and down it, enjoying the pleasing sensation it gave him. It seemed inviting, agreeable... begging to be handled, begging to be touched. A sudden idea grasped Three, and he fastened both hands tightly on it and lifted. He instantly regretted it as pain returned to his arms, but it did not seem too heavy, and seemed to enjoy being picked up even more. It was charming, and he instantly felt attached to it. Yet something about the brilliantly shining arc on the end warned him that it would be unwise to handle that part.

Curiosity burned brightly within him. As the soreness in his limbs lessened, he dragged the staff around and explore his surroundings. He learned his legs, though they were weak from never being used inside the cool chamber that seemed to be fading away from his memory, and rejoiced in the power to move himself... like the strange souls he had watched before. There was no possible way he could become bored... he was delighted with the sensory overload he gained from trying to comprehend the little room.

It was not long until the guards returned, however. They entered just as he had begun to investigate a large rack of promising somethings. He looked up, and stared, and they stared back at him. He recalled his trip to this little oasis, and his eyes narrowed as he backed away a little, unwilling to go through that again. With a fair bit of effort he righted the staff, and held it close, though he was not exactly sure what he was going to do with it.

There was no movement for a while, and at last one guard leaned over and gave him a strange smile, her mouth a squirming line. "Come on," she said sweetly, gesturing to him. "Come."

_Come._

The mental command struck harder than the guard's, and Three took a slightly questioning step towards them. The guard nodded, the voice beckoning him forward, and he began to follow the two lady soldiers down long, dark passageways and twisting corridors to a great, open room.

He was led into a large, sunken-in rectangle beneath rows and rows of velvety seats, most empty except for a few lines of conscious souls he recognized from those sleepy days, quickly evaporating. The female guards suddenly vanished, filling him with a feeling of great anticipation and dread, causing to cling to the staff even tighter, as if he felt it would protect him. Nothing happened for a long time, and then a light, melodic laughter drifted down from above. Three traced its source, up to the face of the silver creature that had brought him into this madness.

"It is time to begin!" Kuja shouted. "Bring it."

Great doors at the other side of the box heaved open. Something stepped through them, its glossy fur shining in the artificial light, its nose twitching madly at the strange scents floating around it, the tip of its tail jerking back and forth to counter the weight of its body as it scurried forward. Three thought the shape of the creature was perfectly absurd, but there was a strange affinity to it, and its spontaneous actions were almost appealing.

Then the monster's head raised, and its gaze fixed on the Black Waltz. Its eyes suddenly began to glow red, and it crouched low to the ground, emitting a low, threatening hiss. Three felt the menace rolling off it in heavy sheets, and a spark of fear was ignited, and some instinct told him to brace himself.

Kuja's quiet laugh echoed as the Mu charged straight at the small Waltz, snarling in its small voice and foaming madly at the mouth. Another instinct told Three to bring his staff in front of him to ward off the offending blow. The Mu bounced back, still hissing and spitting, eyes and intense scarlet. Three panicked, his reaction to flee, but something told him to keep his back covered and he regained control, turning to face the little creature and stepping backwards towards the edge of the great rectangle. He deflected the Mu's rushes again and again, growing steadily more confused, not understanding what the hopelessly miniature and ridiculous little monster was trying to accomplish with its mad fury. Exhaustion crept up to him after a while, and he was jarred more and more by each blow, beginning to lose his grip on control.

"Enough..." Kuja whispered, though everyone in the chamber could hear him. "Kill it."

The Mu gave one last flying leap and broke through the Waltz's guard, sinking its small, sharp fangs into his arm. Pain flashed through Three's mind as he stared at it, hanging off his arm, eyes still crazed and furious. Its bite tightened, growing more vicious, and drawing more terrible pain...

_Kill..._

With a burst of strength, Three threw it off his arm. It landed in the sandy bottom of the pit, jaws opened, teeth coated with a dark red liquid and still, still holding fragments of torn blue fabric. Three's eyes flashed, and the stepped back, wielding the staff like a true weapon.

_KILL!!!_

Electricity ripped down along his arms and the length of his staff, scorching the air and ground. He bit down hard and pointed the bladed head of the staff towards the Mu, screaming inwardly as a massive bolt of lightning shot from the tip and smashed directly into it. The creature shrieked in agony as the thunder ruthlessly tore at its nerves, exploding through it in one tremendous blast. It gurgled helplessly as the last bits of static and its consciousness fizzled out into the air.

Dizzy, Three looked down at his injured arm, where there was a great tear in the sleeve. Dark blood dripped from the wound, little shocks of sore pain rising to the surface. His head began to ache. Kuja laughed, laughing madly in triumph.

---

It was a decent-sized chapter, at last! ^^ Please review, it'll make me vewwy happy. ' '


	3. Flight

3-san doesn't belong to me, Kuja doesn't belong to me, falling out of windows hasn't been copyrighted yet, and I do not profit from this fic. It makes me feel good when people review me tho! ^^;

All right... I feel very, very disappointed in myself for this chapter. ¬¬; I rambled too much and it was just too lighthearted! @@ I prooomise Chapter 4 will be MUCH better! ^^;; I'll be more inspired AND I won't have a wierd injury in my hand. oO

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A small red-gold eye opened slightly, peering up at the light reflected off the waves of the guard's golden hair. Her back was turned as she busied herself with sweeping the floor, a buoyant jubilance floating about her and showing in her every motion. She seemed so cheerful, more than any other human he had ever seen, so content with how menial the task she performed was, so patient. Somehow, he liked her more than the guards who were constantly dragging him off to fight those big hairy things with bloodshot eyes and bad breath.

The way they would command him to come, and how the way the bravest would touch his arm, to lead him away from the quiet time spent curled up on comfortably his bed, to kill those bloody monsters, reeked of their glaring human stupidity and obnoxious nature. He was filled with a deep, intense dislike.

She turned sideways, allowing him a glimpse at her face. She seemed relaxed, with such a peaceful expression, not as tense as those ever-irritated others. The fair-haired guard seemed to glance in his direction, and he closed that eye, hoping she would not notice that he was awake. He heard a pause, then a gentle swish of movement, and when he looked again he was alone.

Pulling himself up into a sitting position took all of his strength. He was incredibly sore from a skirmish with a nasty Python the last night, drained from all the spells he had been casting... He was starving, too, kept terribly underfed. He was growing rapidly and was in desperate need of more nutrition. Thirsty for water and light, he slid off the bed slowly and moved to the window, pushing aside the draperies.

One could see no rivers, no luscious green courtyards from the window, nor could the window be seen from the boats and gardens. But Three had a clear view to the sky, the beautiful, expansive blue sky, occasionally with a few wisps of tissue-paper clouds, but still, vast, clear and infinitely deep. A blinding orb sat a few inches above the horizon; he blinked and rubbed the back of his hand against his eyes. When he stared at it, it was like the hurtful fire he had experienced in the deepest reaches of the dungeon, but if you looked at it sideways it was comforting and radiated a sweet, tender sort of light.

_How mysterious._

Returning to the stuffy reality of the small room, Three suddenly realized that the guard had not closed the door completely. A spark of excitement was kindled. He hopped over to it, grasping at the doorknob and tugging with all his strength. It was surprisingly willing to let him through, and he tumbled over backwards, but picked himself up and wandered outside to explore.

He had seen the great, high-roofed hallways on his way to fight, but there were no cold, stiff soldiers pressing in around him, and he was free to take in all of its magnificence. Pillars of wood glazed with golden paint pressed against the walls, distant ceiling, and beautiful marble-like floors, a great crimson carpet leading the way to rows and rows of doorways and tempting passages drawing the little Black Waltz onward. Something stopped him, however, and he turned to investigate it.

A very peculiar, quiet soul sat on a low table by a window. It did not move as Three walked up to it, nor did it respond when he grabbed the edge of the slab and leaned forward to look at it more closely. It was not like anything he had seen before, frilly and prone to tremble like some of the humans he had observed, but far more still and tolerant. Nor did it project as much fear as the average human, or the sick, blind rage of the monsters he would kill every evening, but remained silent and serene, carrying on whatever it was doing, sitting there. He touched a frond of green lace, and it still did nothing, easing back into its previous position when he let go.

He was very puzzled by it, but it was nothing for him to fear. It was so calm as to calm him while he was near it, and made him feel better about his nibbled shoulder and hunger. The air around it was easier to breathe, rich, like... like what? Like something that had slipped his memory. It seemed to be a far more happy creature than the humans or monsters.

Three was about to leave when he noticed something wrong with the little bristles on its limbs. Concerned, he looked again, and noticed though most were a beautiful, deep green, some had crackled, turning the color of fire, and stopped breathing.

_Is it dying?_

He touched the soul again, gentler this time, trying to tell what was wrong with it, but the ever quiet and optimistic creature told no tales. He drew away slowly, little worries churning around in his mind, but doing his best to push them away and concentrate on the environment. Though he fretted over the misfortune of the helpless thing, he supposed it was not in too much danger. If it too was thirsty, someone would surely give it something to drink soon.

Satisfied, he continued to wander.

*~*

It served well to make him feel small, that great room did. Everything about it was enormous, the huge, plush seats covered in detailed designs, the tapestries hanging from the walls, and the monstrous black thing with too many teeth that stirred certain bad memories. He wandered about the jungle of furniture, completely lost, amazed that there indeed were chairs that were built to be comfortable, unlike the plain wooden one in his room that was built like a rack. It was awesome.

What drew him forward through the maze was the giant window on the other side of the room, flung wide open. The curtains were white and translucent, letting the morning sun filter through, and a breeze was blowing gently, reaching out to run its fingers loosely around the Black Waltz. He ran to it, standing before it, gaping, eyes wide, recognizing nothing he saw but the sky. A thick, furry carpet of green lay across the floor of this big room on the other side of the window, breathing like the peaceful thing he had met just before. Massive creatures of the same type stood tall and steady, reaching proudly towards the clouds. There were walls of white and silver, and there was no ceiling, letting the air move throughout, away from the burning bright orb.

_How beautiful!_

He smiled, placing his hands lightly on the windowsill, feeling the wind push by him gently to fly into the great halls. The unbroken streams of sunlight healed the stiffness confinement had pressed into him, and he rejoiced quietly, cheered by this great room's wonder. The breeze whistled its own soft nothings to the walls, and there was something else, too, a very beautiful something that floated along with that whisper... A voice, drifting from a window on the other side of the courtyard.

Three jerked himself out of his trance and strained to catch the words of the song. It was so lovely, more soothing than anything he had experienced before. He leaned out, struggling to make out what the notes were saying, and caught a glimpse of a human with long, dark hair pass the window briefly, simultaneously losing his balance and falling out the window.

He immediately knew that he was not supposed to be quickly descending, upside-down, from a great height. Panic swept over him, and he lashed out with his hands at the air, every inch struggling against the undeniable force of greedy gravity that pulled him straight towards the ground... every inch, including the long, feathered appendages sprouting from his back.

They acted of their own will, spreading and pushing back against the earth's hand of energy, grabbing for a wind to help. With a yelp, Three was righted, and given complete control of his wings. He was too crazed to think, and flailed in precisely the wrong direction, running hard into a tree, a branch knocking the wind out of him. Madness motivated him to grab tightly onto it, and he dangled there, gasping, for a moment, gradually regaining his sanity.

_I must get back down..._

He beat his wings a few times, tentatively, then slowly let go and carefully descended. Those limbs felt peculiar, as if they hadn't been placed on right, but he trusted them to keep him from splattering bloodily on the ground. Feeling the wind float over them was oddly pleasant, as well, and he somewhat enjoyed the cautious landing. Once he was safe, however, his strength vanished, and he crumpled, a bit lightheaded and totally exhausted.

A human's shadow fell over him. He looked up, vision a bit blurry, but was able recognize the slightly bluish tones of a familiar warrior's garb. His lips were curled into a wicked smile, a few locks of silver falling into his face. Three suddenly felt a twinge of resentment.

"How delightful," came Kuja's voice, as slick and silvery as everything else about him. "I am most pleased... it is indeed good news that your wings are able to function. I am only curious about how you got to that window in the first place..."

_I do not like this man._

"What is important though," Kuja continued, "is that you have discovered the... power of... flight."

The Waltz's large eyes blinked.

"Flight," he echoed, pronouncing the single syllable perfectly and naturally. Kuja's smile widened in time with a renewed gust of wind and the closing of the far window.

---

Please don't kill me. oo; I'll probably do Chapter 4 soon, and make up for it... AA;


	4. Knowledge

Nope, I don't make any money off this fic. So you don't have to feel bad. ^^

Peaceful times... though it's not QUITE as bad as the previous chapter. oo; Anyhow, here are some events that occur after quite some time passes...

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Time was cruel to all Black Waltzes, showing no mercy towards their youth. Three was no exception, and though he had not lived for a long time... perhaps only a few months... he did not appear much younger than Kuja himself. His wings had grown large and beautiful, held gracefully arched and proud, and his eyes were narrower, and a darker red. Perhaps it had come of glaring at the guards so often when they fetched him for less frequent, less significant battles. He had managed to make most of the female soldiers perfectly petrified of him, at least.

He hardly cared, personally. Humans were of very little interest to them, the stupid creatures they were. They were good only for supplying him with more books, those blessed tomes of wisdom. He had discovered the beauty of literature quite some time ago, when he learned to associate sound with script, and script with concept. The gates of knowledge then opened to him, and he set out on a quest to feed his insatiable desire to learn.

Three had been given a short period of time each day to raid Alexandria's libraries and return with as many books as he could read in his hours of free time. Kuja insisted he stay in his room when he was not on those short, permitted trips or in the dungeons, so that he could be kept track of.

_He must believe I would attempt to escape if I was left to roam freely. I would indeed like to seek adventure, but it would be sheer lunacy to run off with no notion of where I was headed to._

That was how humans were, always doubtful of the mental capacity of others. But was Kuja even a human? His pressing soul felt different than those of the foolish guards and the nervous people robed in white that still occasionally came to watch him fight... but he, too, doubted the Waltz's intelligence. Their foolery disgusted him.

He directed his attention back to the book. After ravenously reading through most of the texts dealing with history in the library, he had moved on to the thickest novels and manuscripts.

_Sadly, they all end the same... Sue leaps into Bob's arms, they declare their love and they live together, until the end of their time... Sickening._

The presence of a human disturbed his peace, and he looked up, irritated. He became less so when he recognized the guard by the waves of golden hair cascading down her back and the amiable nature of her step. Still, he was uncomfortable with another creature in the small room, and would have preferred her to come when he was not there. She did not seem to notice his aversion, however, and began to sweep vigorously with a long-handled broom. He stared at her, hoping that would convince her to leave, but she kept her head down.

The guard happened across a pile of works on the floor that Three had not managed to fit into the crowded bookshelf. She stooped to pick these up, and glanced over the covers, then placed them neatly on the bed. She kept her eyes averted, but spoke. "I didn't know you read these things."

He did not respond, keeping his look steady and cold.

She glanced up briefly, smiling slightly, then resumed cleaning, a subdued brightness in her actions. She continued. "I would never have expected that the small, adorable little lump of feathers and robes they brought in one day would someday be into classical tragedy and such." That little smile grew even more kind and soft. "No offense."

"None taken," he responded, emotionless, studying her. He had never seen anyone behave so contentedly since an encounter with a potted fern. Had there been a bit more room in the chamber, her presence might have helped to spread that content. He absentmindedly noted that her face was rather easy on the eyes, as well.

"That's good." She straightened, adjusting her helmet. "Do you need me to get anything?"

"No."

"All right." She picked up her broom and headed for the door, pausing before she left to glance back and smile yet again. "Good luck."

He shook his head as she closed the door quietly behind her. She was too giving with those smiles, too eager to hand out little pieces of her soul to those who would greedily take them. Despite her favorable brand of respect for him, and her warmth, she was truly not that different from the other soldiers.

"Human fools," he muttered bitterly, before returning to the solemn pages.

*~*

Kuja smiled with satisfaction as the beast reared back in pain, collapsing into a heap of scorched and scarred flesh. Black Waltz no. 3 dropped to his knees, panting, leaning on his staff, but largely unscathed from the battle. Three was controlled and logical, and the brute strength the monsters relied on could not combat the power of the Waltz's focused strength... With each fight Kuja witnessed the weapon grow more and more powerful, more and more ready for a battle with a different kind of enemy.

Arrangements for the next battle were all well taken care of. He had consulted the queen about the training of this deadly creation, and she had agreed to help supply opponents for the tool of destruction to sharpen his abilities on. Kuja had full confidence everything would go well; the Waltz was skilled with black magic, and handy with that bladed staff... he doubted there would be a problem, even if the target was extremely well-trained.

Ah, yes, Three was his greatest creation by far. So powerful, fast-growing, intellectual. Stable. Everything he had wanted to instill in one of his black mage soldiers had come together within this magnificent weapon. He would have to do his best to keep from leaping into things too quickly, and to plod along with training until Three was ready to carry out his dark purpose.

"It truly is regrettable that he belongs to that elephant lady," Kuja whispered, watching the guards move forward to open the gates. The corpse of the monster began to stink terribly, and the silver warrior grimaced, turning to leave.

The Waltz had lost all trappings of innocence, retaining only a subdued curiosity that was satisfied with knowledge, and gained a bitterness towards humanity that Kuja could immediately utilize. Hopefully, his timing had been correct, and Three was indeed at the proper stage for this, psychologically ready to move closer to becoming the weapon existing purely for destruction...

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No, no, none of THAT happens. oO;;

Please review! It'll make me happy and will probably motivate me to write Chapter 5 sooner, which has considerably more action. ' '; Arigato.


	5. Mercy

Check Chapter 1. I've no time to copy it over!

Kay, I really really hurried to finish this before school. I think it turned out okay, though it rambles a bit. ^^; Long chapter. Yaay! Maybe I should rate this one PG-12, tho...

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There was something different about the air in the dungeons today, something indescribable. There seemed to be more people in the rows of seats which usually remained empty... or perhaps he had never paid attention to the humans there. A great number of Alexandrian soldiers were present, most of them lounging around, looking bored. He scanned the humans quickly for Kuja, and found him standing at the center of the left row, arms crossed, with a mysterious, unrevealing smile. Seated on his left with a hand on her sword hilt sat an Alexandrian soldier in a much fancier uniform, perhaps an officer of higher rank. Sitting to his right was a woman Three had never seen before, not exactly the picture of beauty... But whoever she was, she must have been important and powerful, to afford all the luxurious clothing she wore.

_Is that... the queen?_

Bow.

Three gave a graceful, sweeping bow in their direction, but they did not appear to notice. Irritated, he stiffened, and picked his staff up off the ground, wondering for a moment what sort of creature would be released from the opposite gateway, when the queen began to speak. The female soldiers stopped chattering to listen.

"We have come here today to witness the execution of a vile traitor to the crown! Guards! Bring him in!"

The Black Waltz briefly thought they were referring to him, but then the far gates opened, and a young man with his hands bound was led in by two soldiers. He struggled against them, but they held him fast, and led him to the center of the pit, throwing him down into the dust. He coughed, trying vainly to stand.

The queen smiled savagely. "He has given information about Alexandria to enemy nations," she snarled.

"How could I do that!?" the young man yelled up at her, finally managing to get his feet under him, and drawing up to his full height, which was not too impressive. "I don't know anything about Alexandria that could harm you!"

"Do you deny your crime?"

"I haven't done anything!"

"Very well, if you refuse to admit..." The two female soldiers that had led him in ran back out through the gates as they slowly creaked shut. The young man looked around wildly, not yet noticing the tall, handsomely winged black mage not standing far away. The queen's grin widened and she shouted to the pit below, "Kill him!"

_Yes, kill him._

The prisoner turned in time to meet Three's staff cutting in towards him, and he yelled as the force of the blow knocked him back. He lost his balance and fell over backwards in the dust, almost landing directly on top of an old, rusted sword which must have slept in the pit for centuries. He pressed the rope tying his hands against the blade, freeing himself, then picked the weapon up and pointed it towards the Waltz. His hands were shaking.

_Pathetic..._

Kill.

The young man lunged towards him, wielding the sword as best he could. Three scoffed and parried easily, then leapt into the air and hovered just out of reach of the blade. He held up his free hand as magic burned in his eyes, and an orb of fire surrounded it, screaming with a desire to destroy. He faced his palm to his opponent, and a blast of flame exploded towards the unlucky warrior, who cried on in pain as it collapsed on him and burned at and through his skin...

_Excellent._

"I won't lose!" the young man shouted, the worst of the spell fading off, pointing the blade at Three, a different sort of fire in his gaze. "Come down here and fight like a man! ...Or are you one?"

"Do you dare to insult me?" Three landed, standing loosely, prepared to counterattack. The prisoner charged, meeting another parry, growling as he drew backwards. The mage straightened and sneered down at him. "Are you truly that ridiculously weak, or are you just attempting to conserve your power?"

The other could not stand this, and charged again, slashing furiously with the sword, breaking through Three's guard on a last, upward swipe, tossing the mage back to the opposite wall. Three vision was jarred into blurriness, and he brought a hand up to the wound on his side... it wasn't very deep, but stirred pain and deep fury.

_HOW... DARE... HE..._

Kill him!

"Thunder!" Black Waltz 3 screamed to the air and sky, smiling with satisfaction as he felt electricity ripple over him. The growing thunderbolt raced along the staff, the golden head glowing white. Three then raised the staff over his head as lightning exploded from both ends, the music of the thunder an undying roar, causing a few soldiers to cry out. He threw his soul over the magic, gathering it, and then pointing its power directly towards the young man...

_What beautiful screams..._

The sound of his cries faded as he keeled over backwards, the sword falling from his hands and embedding itself point down in the dust. His clothes had caught fire from the sparks of electricity, and he lay there, motionless, bleeding his blood and life onto the ground. There was a terrible sort of burn on his pale skin, and deep, black scars the magic had inflicted. Three decided not to gaze upon his handiwork for too long, and turned away, awaiting the opening of the gates that led to his chamber, and sleep...

The Kuja's light laughter echoed through the dungeon and within his mind...

*~*

Three did not object to serving as the executioner of those who betrayed the queen. He hated all humans, and what better way was there to satisfy that hatred? Kuja was proud of him, but he frankly didn't care what Kuja thought of him. So long as he had his books and a comfortable place to rest at night, he wouldn't complain...

Few of the prisoners had the will to fight back, and their deaths came quickly. Oh, but not painlessly... he would never let them go painlessly. There was something satisfying in the sound of a human's dying scream... in killing the poor, foolish creatures... Yet he did not look forward to fighting that much, to dirtying his robes from rising dust, and having to expend the great amount of energy spells demanded of him. If he was given the choice, he would have rather been locked up in the libraries for the rest of his life, to live among the texts and be able to spend all his time just soaking in the knowledge...

His thoughts drifted as the soldiers moved to open the gates. They had been especially jumpy today, perhaps because he had started killing humans... or perhaps it was something else. His long, swift stride carried him through the gate, but he stopped short when he saw his enemies for the evening.

Two young women in light armor glared back at him, their hands tied behind them, and spirits blazing brightly. The third female in the group, however, had her gaze cast down, and was trembling slightly. These were Alexandrian guards...

"We have come here to witness the execution of three traitorous guards who have plotted treason! Commence!"

The spirited soldiers prepared to run from anything he sent in their direction. His attention, however, was captured by that one guard who still wouldn't look up, still shaking, fear rolling off her in sheets, waves of hair dulled from being soiled by the dungeon dust, but still golden...

_Go. Kill them._

Neither of the two others guards were ready for the icy destruction that Three cast upon them. Limbs frozen over, the force of Blizzard testing the strength of their frames, they both collapsed, still alive, but barely. Three did not pay them much mind, focusing instead on the beautiful, golden-haired guard who had just begun to look up. Their eyes met, and he gazed into the sorrowful light that escaped through her look. She was...

Three raised his hands, still watching her. She bowed her head again slightly, looking up at him with a sort of helpless despair. She finally flung herself down on her knees, giving herself up to the earth again, awaiting the death Three held to be released upon her. A memory of a smile came to him, and the spell rose in him, talons of ruin clawing at the air.

Thunder was birthed from his hands, and he watched bitterly as it began to tear at all it came in contact with. It came in at the sides, reaching first the two whose will to live was overwhelmed by the will to destroy, then approached the golden-haired one, who remained motionless, and did not even cry out when the dark electricity consumed her. Three's gaze began to wander upwards, away from her.

_I don't... understand._

The destruction is complete, my glorious weapon... you shall serve me well.

There was a throbbing pain in his head, and his breath did not come easily. He did not want to stay there, but returning to a small room no longer brightened by that spark...

_...Why didn't she fight back?_

*~*

"Aren't they wonderful?" Kuja smiled, giving a sweeping gesture. "Products of my research."

Three leaned on his staff, gazing down at the lines of soldiers slowly walking into the castle. They wore steeple-crowned hats, with eyes a lighter, softer yellow, like something he had seen in a reflection somewhere, long ago. Their robes were plain, a depressing shade of violet, and their step was slow and awkward. He didn't think much of their ability.

"Mmm?" The silvery warrior studied the mage's expression. "Not very impressed, eh? Well, I can't create an army of Black Waltzes, sadly... it is far too costly. These mages cost much less."

"Hn..."

"Indeed." Kuja's smile remained sweet and ironic as he crossed his arms and looked down at them. "Ah, I remember those days... I knew quite little about the proper construction of soldiers from the Mist... Only after much experimentation and frustration was I able to create you, dear Waltz."

"...My name is Three. Where are the other two?"

"In their respective wings," Kuja replied casually. "I couldn't put you three together; you'd kill each other. Really, it is far too dangerous."

_Really._

"Why? Do you wish to meet them?"

Three shook his head, and resumed observing the lines of mages. There was something wrong with them... they walked like puppets, head down, the swinging of their limbs exaggerated. He felt Kuja leave, as the black mage soldiers finished lining up along the walls and stopped moving. There was one straggler, however, that plodded over to take its spot.

Three leapt from the balcony and landed lightly beside it. It ceased to move, staring straight ahead, as the Waltz walked around it, studying it. He stopped in front of it and looked into its eyes... deep, and sore-looking. He cleared his throat. "Where are you going?"

It did not respond.

He frowned, and tried again. "What do they call you?"

"......"

"Answer me. Are you a mute?"

_You can't talk to them, dear Waltz. They are all dumb animals, mindless dolls._

Three shivered, and stepped aside as the puppet-mage began to trudge forward again.

---

^^;; It was early in the morning and I was hurried. Kindly review, it will brighten my day! The next two chapters cover some of the game storyline.


	6. Defiance

FF9 belongs to Squaresoft, of course. I don't profit from this fic. I can, however, scare people by going up to them and saying in a spooky voice, "I exist only to kill...!"

Whoo! Long chapter! ^^; Battles 'n stuff. I fixed a few errors because they were bothering me. @@; Anyway... please enjoy.

---

Three had heard many tales about the legendary grace and beauty of the current princess of Alexandria since Kuja had begun allowing him to roam the castle freely. The eternally gossiping guards were always talking about this noble or that noble being fetched to wed the princess, and how he had fallen instantly in love with her, and when he was refused, how he had become so heartbroken he leapt off a cliff into the foaming seas. She was said to have the most lovely voice in all the land, and the most sweet, kind, and gracious nature. If someone had been planning to capture a jewel for ransom, there would have been no better target.

Kuja had been rather distraught at the news, and had immediately locked Three up in his room and disappeared. Almost two days of stillness had passed now, most of the time spent watching the shadows shrink and stretch and the two moons sail across the sky. He couldn't make himself stay asleep, so sat cross-legged on the end of his bed, trying to read. Something was keeping him from concentrating, however, and he found himself drifting away from reality, looking for shapes in the darkness, memories gnawing at the back of his mind...

When Kuja did return, he seemed to have recovered and recovered his liquid mercury personality, and was as cool and smooth as ever while leading Three away. He discussed the weather pleasantly until they had reached the airship, a small and agile creation, and then turned to him. "There are three men who are responsible for the kidnapping of the princess. My intelligence tells me that the first is a middle-aged man, a knight... he should not be any trouble. The second is a small black mage, a defect." Three raised an eyebrow but remained silent. "The third is a thief with a very recognizable characteristic... he bears a tail. You, dear Waltz, are to kill them, all of them, and bring the princess back. Do you understand?"

Three nodded. Somehow, he had not felt a touch of fatigue while waiting in his room, but now was suffering from painful exhaustion.

Kuja's eyes suddenly narrowed and he drew up to glare directly into the Waltz's dark face. "If the princess has so much as a scratch, I will see to it that you receive the most painful, torturous death I can conjure for you. _Do you understand_?"

"Yes," Three growled back, tightening his grip on his weapon. "I understand perfectly."

"Good," Kuja said pleasantly, pulling back. He brushed a little silvery hair out of his eyes and nodded to the queen's two jester-servants piloting the airship. The Mist engine began to sing and snarl as the airship picked up off the ground. The Black Waltz leapt up to its nose and seated himself there, laying his staff across his lap and closing his eyes slightly. Kuja tilted his head back to watch them, a new, wicked smile forming. "Be cautious, dear Waltz, as they have already killed the other two," he called as the slim airship rocketed upwards into the sky.

*~*

The winged black mage landed lightly on the cargo ship's deck, looking around. What caught his eye immediately was the slender young woman with long brown hair, walking towards the steering house. Following behind her with a oddly familiar waddling gait was a small boy with an oversized, steeple-crowned hat.

_That girl must be the princess... indeed, she is quite lovely..._

The boy with the large hat stopped walking, and began to slowly turn. Their eyes met, red-gold fury looking down into large, brilliant, innocent yellow light. There were like the eyes of the puppet-mages... but... that deep, glittering gaze held something that no doll could comprehend...

Fear.

"No...!" the boy breathed, taking a step backwards and losing his balance with the rocking of the ship. Three smiled slightly, raising a hand, feeling the satisfying electricity licking at it, and pointed, a small bolt of lightning leaping through the air to strike the small mage. The boy yelped with pain.

_Weakling..._

"Vivi!" The princess ran back, kneeling by his side, expression filled with worry. "Are you okay!?"

Three's voice came, low and ominous. "So, No. 2 was defeated by a small child! You are no match against my power!" His eyes glittered. The little mage began to whimper softly and cling to the princess, who stared up at him with a mixture of emotions. Three laughed, deep and cruelly, looking at them both with cutting scorn. "Princess, stay there while I eliminate this child!"

Something glinted in the corner of his eye, and he looked up. A line of puppet-mages, the cargo ship's crew, had abandoned their posts and begun to walk slowly forward. Their eyes were dull, unseeing, but they marched steadily forward, all perfectly identical in their miserable purple robes, marionettes... Walking towards them. Surrounding the princess and the small weakling mage...

"Are you... protecting him?" Three looked each over slowly. They all turned together to look at the little boy, then turned back to face him. Their eyes conveyed nothing, but he felt a wave of magic moving through them, and a soft touch of spirit descending towards the airship...

_These..._

"...Nonsense. You are no different from mindless dolls! What can you do?" The little mage rose as he spoke, yet when he tried to step forward, the princess dragged him away. The puppet-mages raised their hands, holding small flames. Three's glare grew brighter and narrower. "Get out of my way! Do you dare to fight a Black Waltz?" The name Kuja had given them slid out through his teeth, cold and deadly, dark, delightful...

Not a mage stepped away. The little flames grew a bit, spluttering in the wind, but still alive. Three snarled softly, hatred rising in him. "I said, get out of my way!" he hissed.

He raised his hand again. Thunder echoed from around it, a halo of wicked blue lightning forming there and seething angrily before exploding outwards in a wide bolt of vicious electricity that caught all four of the puppets and threw them backwards against the steering house. They made no sound as the lightning's claws caught them, beating them ruthlessly, spitting with fury, and at last tossing them over the edge of the deck. The thunder caught the barrels that contained mages remaining dormant, its undeniable destructive force ripping the wood apart and tearing through the creatures, awakening to death. All of them fell from the airship, thrown into the wind by the strength of Three's explosion of anger, short existences as dolls without destinies ended.

_Dumb animals asking to be delivered to their fate... puppets... those rebels, that boy with the large eyes... all of them are the same. Numb, deaf, stupid creatures._

A new smile of reassurance and pleasure came to his lips.

_I am the only one with a mind of my own..._

A cry stirred him from his dreams birthed of bloodlust. The little defect, pulled out of the way of the blast by the princess, had now come running. Liquid starlight trickled from the corners of his eyes, wide and watery with silver tears. His voice was high and choked with sobs the boy was trying to swallow. "Why...? Why would you do such a thing!?" He gasped for breath and stared up at him, a blend of confusion and despairing fury shining in his expression. "Weren't they your friends!?"

_Friends..._

"You fool," Three whispered, eyes narrowing further, as he lowered his palm to face the child. "Do I look like some lowly black mage soldier?"

A knight ran up to stand behind the little boy. He trembled with anger, expression tense and furious, and incredibly amusing to the winged black mage. "Even if they weren't you allies, what you did was reprehensible!"

_Another human... another blind fool._

Three laughed again, drinking in the beautiful atmosphere of death he had created there. "Worry not about them: many more are being produced even now!"

"What are you?" hissed a male voice. Three recognized the speaker as the young man with a tail Kuja had warned him about. He looked just as angered as the knight, perhaps even more. Looking into his eyes, Three knew that this young man was not such a fool.

_They're all here... it is time._

He straightened. "Ah, the princess's bodyguards have gathered! How very convenient!"

_Yes... kill them... make them suffer..._

"Answer me!" snarled the man with the tail, reaching for a pair of daggers at his belt.

Three chuckled. "It wouldn't do you any good if I answered... because you're all going to die!"

_Perfect..._

His laughter echoed across the decks as he began to raise his staff. He brought it cutting through the air, feeling the bladed end slice satisfyingly through the light clouds now enveloping the ship.

_...weapon..._

"I will eliminate any who stand in my way!" he cried, drawing back into his familiar counterattack stance.

Just as he did, a light began to shine from the heart of the little black mage. A last luminous tear fell to the deck before he was surrounded in an aura of silvery lavender light. He radiated energy into the surroundings as he clasped a small wooden staff and held it in front of him, beginning to chant quietly. The thief got out his knives and lunged for Three, missing, and getting the cruelly bladed head of the winged soldier's staff thrust into his back. He tumbled head over heels for a moment before regaining his footing and bracing against the side of the ship to prepare a second attack. Three closed his eyes briefly and muttered something under his breath, then waved his weapon in a large arc, a ferocious blast of lightning exploding from the tip and catching the heavily armored knight, who groaned and winced backwards, dropping his guard. Three picked up off the ground, preparing to strike again, when the child's voice lifted again, this time loud and bitter.

"Thunder! Thunder!!" he screamed, sparks flying everywhere. The two other kidnappers leapt aside, and the twin bolts of lunatic electricity found their route to the sky, leaping through the Black Waltz, making his breath catch in his throat and forcing him to drop back down to the deck to recover. As the last of the spell faded away, the child's aura faded, and he fell back into a sitting position, panting. The thief charged Three from behind, scoring a good hit, and the knight rushed in as well, but Three was able to bring his staff up and block the attack.

_Pain..._

Flame burst from his hands, leaping outwards, attacking everything in sight. The thief tried in vain to protect the little mage, but they were all hit by the eruption of black magic. He swung the weapon around and drove its head into the knight's face, causing him to lose his balance and topple over. Ice was birthed next, encasing the iron-clad warrior, biting like wolves at his flesh...

_They must too... suffer pain..._

The young man saw that he was distracted and leapt in at precisely the right moment, jumping up and bringing his daggers with him, cutting huge gaping wounds in the Waltz's chest. Three gasped, staggering backwards, dropping to one knee, overwhelmed by pain. "You... You scum...!" he choked, closing his eyes, involuntarily beginning to tremble.

_Kill._

How could I be defeated...? I am a... I am the...

Kill.

I must... I must not...

Kill.

...losing... to... a doll...?

Kill.

Memories... something sweet... gentle... playing against his cheeks... embraced from afar... promising and angelic... giving him... _power_...

_Kuja..._

KILL...

A beginning... touched by the sweet echo of destruction... gave him a new smile... a black, cutting smile he turned to those three that still watched him, all but one with looks of smug satisfaction and recognition of victory. His wings ceased shaking, and reached out to seize the wind. "I exist only to kill!" he cried, feeling the air lift him upwards, away from them, as he found laughter, though each time he drew breath he gave a small shudder of pain. As he was pulled back towards the small airship he had arrived on, he saw the two little jester twins disappear into the high Mist, fleeing...

_Kill them all._

He ignored them, landing beside the steering wheel, which he took hold of. He was wracked with pain... pain... which he could inflict on them... which he could use, evoke, and brandish...

_Kill them..._

"I exist only to kill!" he hissed, bracing himself against the wind now. "I exist only to kill!" His wings stretched out, drawing more torturous, biting pain... but no matter... "I exist only to kill!" The cargo ship loomed ahead of him, and his burning eyes caught it, as his voice rose to a scream... "I exist only to kill...!"

The smaller airship swung towards the cargo ship, pursuing it towards South Gate. Three did not seem to notice the gate beginning to close, only seeing the vessel that harbored three beings screaming for their lives to be ended. The slim ship pulled up next to it, and Three saw the small boy, standing before one of the puppet-mage's hats, caught on the railing. What sort of deep sorrow those large eyes held...

_Kill..._

...the Waltz was oblivious to. He raised his hand, blinding electricity building up there, fueled by power from beyond either's understanding. The little black mage watched for a moment, then hung his head, trembling slightly. Three's delirious smile widened as the rays of lightning grew to their maximum power...

The boy's head snapped up with his hands, fire circling around him and then leaping up in a beam of concentrated flame and anger. Three was thrown against the side of the small airship and it lost control, spinning away. He took a moment to recover from the shock, and drew himself up again, reaching for the steering wheel, consumed with pain without feeling any of it.

_Kill..._

The cargo ship plunged into the gate, with the thin, light Alexandrian ship on its tail, coming back up to be parallel with the larger airship. Three saw the man with the tail, and he called his lightning again, laughing inwardly as the electricity licked along the length of the ship...

_KILL!_

A spark fell upon the wooden deck and started a fire. Three looked back, surprised, not comprehending what had happened for a moment. It slowly dawned on him, and he turned back to try to regain control, but the small airship had already begun to fall away to its death.

There was a nova of shattering metal and splintering wood. Lightning, fire, and ice ran along Three's limbs, fully excruciating, so painful he could not cry out. It threw him, and he tried vainly to open his wings and escape. A massive force came rushing in, however, and clamped down on one raven wing, wind tearing him away, conjuring fireworks and an overwhelming blackness rushing in.

---

Pweeze review! AA Pweeeeeze! Or I won't tell you about the myshterious stuff that happens next! ^^; No, really, reviews are inspiring. Kindly do.


	7. Bitter

Who here doesn't know that FFIX (including all its kawaii Waltzes) belongs to Squaresoft, and that I don't get any money for this fic?

*hums Duty* Final chapter. It turned out okay, though it seemed a little short. Please enjoy.

---

There was an alarming blackness enveloping him. He strained, trying to repel it, not quite remembering how to ward it away. Intangible, colorless sands were blown away from the buried scriptures within his mind, revealing memories, stiff, as if they had been dormant for ages. He slowly recalled sight, and stared upwards at the confusing collage of bright patterns and shapes. Strange sensations worked their way up towards his mind... it took him some time to realize that he was in pain. He tried to cry out, but he discovered he had no breath, and began gulping air frantically.

Something's voice began to stand over the agony, ancient thoughts coursing upwards through the earth to seek his consciousness out. It urged him to pull himself out of the vulnerable position, to stand... He shivered, searching along a limb to find a hand to steady himself with. The other gripped something he could push against the ground to help right himself, and he leaned on it, dizzy, trying to make sense of the pandemonium before him. One shoulder pulsed with crippling pain, and the other received short shocks from something beyond it... ripped and mangled.

He wanted to question it, but had forgotten how. He was tattered, wings shredded, with long tears in his robes and splintered bones, beaten against cliffside and heavy earth. His mind had taken the worst of the blows, and lay shattered, memories glinting helplessly like the crystal dust from broken glass. He sensed ruin, and shrank from it, bewildered... lost.

An almost familiar voice floated around him, circling his partially crushed thoughts. He tried to look behind him to see who was speaking, but he could not find the strength.

_Bring the princess back._

Had there been a princess once? He could hardly remember. Back where...? Somewhere... where there was a scornful smile painted in colors of death.

_If the princess has so much as a scratch..._

The pain did not seem to matter so much anymore. The graceful hands belonging to that wicked smirk began sweeping up the fractured memories and pile them together again, all the while speaking in a cold, sinister tone.

_Black Waltz no. 3..._

Three looked down, towards the cable car tracks. Souls drew closer... certain souls. He found movement again, guided by a partially rebuilt consciousness, following the voice's command...

_Kill them... all of them._

*~*

The cable car drifted forwards slowly. Three stood before it, still bent and crippled, but wearing a crazed smile. He felt the humans gradually approaching, inching closer to their destruction... How wonderful it would be to crush their purposeless lives, slowly and painfully... These deaths were surely to be looked forward to... he did not doubt the silvery voice.

_Yes..._

The cable car operator at the front saw the dark form in front of them. Three's smile widened as he saw the human's expression twist into one of total terror and dread, rejoicing at the sound of the man's cry of fear rising above the machine's gentle rumble.

_Thunder..._

Three let lightning spill from his hands, licking at the car, riding up its metal sides and caressing it with its beautiful, hateful claws. The operator reached for the emergency break, and the Waltz released the thunder's hold. His ears suddenly began to sing and he staggered, clinging to his staff, a bit alarmed with the sudden difficulty. Death had never hurt the one that brought about the destruction before...

Yet, a bright presence still approaching drew his attention away.

_There they are._

He limped towards that glittering soul, wincing a bit with each step, leaning heavily on his staff. Yet the combined powers of that spirit's pull and the sweet memories of those commands kept him moving forwards, until he could see them... a familiar color armor, somewhat dull... a young man, to be torn apart... and the brilliant princess.

_Mission... retrieve... princess... alive..._

He echoed those words, and though speaking drew more pain, it was pleasing to watch the expressions of the two males darken, and the princess's eyes widen as she took a step back. "Isn't that the one we saw on the cargo ship?" she gasped, drawing behind the knight.

_Mission..._

That armor clanked forward. "Monster! I'll finish you off this time!" Three made no sense of his words, but heard the threat, the challenge...

_...retrieve..._

She ran after him. "Wait, Steiner!" She turned to the Waltz, reluctant to look into the glazed fire of his eyes, and her voice rose again. "Tell me something! Why do you want to capture me?"

_...princess..._

"Princess, it's too dangerous! Please stand back!"

_...alive..._

He repeated after the voice, still smiling slightly, bracing against the staff, feeling black magic beginning to swirl in the air around him. The young man drew a sword, like a sword from long ago. "It's no use! It doesn't understand!"

"But---"

Three took a step more, all recognition of pain vanishing.

_KILL..._

"Eliminate... all!" he hissed, unleashing his thunder. The two men were sent sprawling by the force of the blast as the princess cried out and leapt aside, eyes wide. The knight regained his footing and charged, sword first, into the mage. Three stumbled, hanging onto the voice, numb and still crazed, with frozen crystals forming at his hands. Sparks of Blizzard bit into his enemy, sliding into the cracks between plates of armor, joining there, sealing him within a coat of ice. Three swung his staff against the frozen soldier, cracking the shell which exploded with great force. The human moaned and staggered backwards, horror in his eyes, then keeled over.

The younger man ran forward only to be skewered on the staff's cruel blade.

_But..._

He threw the body aside, watching the flying ribbons of blood with delight. Death had been unleashed, and was destroying everything...

_...I now realize that there is no more that can be done with this weapon._

He would have been laughing.

_It is done._

The voice let go, and the pain came spilling back into recognition. Three staggered, choking, trembling violently as the agony returned, clawing and attacking him without mercy. His legs grew almost too weak to support him, and he clung to the staff, attempting to do the same to the power which had abandoned him.

"Please! Tell me!" He raised his head to look in the direction the cries were coming from. The princess's voice was very sweet and beautiful, even when she was so alarmed. "Please!!" Her eyes pleaded with him... what did she want? His thoughts seemed to be drifting away...

Something about that voice... a song... a golden smile... trust and resignation... The light that was spilling out her eyes...

Shocked, he recognized that shine from a beginning, long ago, in memories lost, yet somehow recovered. Giving not magic... the ability to destroy, to draw death, to draw pain... not power... to be taken away again... but...

A swing of a magician's rod snapped the thread between Black Waltz 3 and light.

*~*

This time, all came from darkness. Memories and desires for anything else diffused outwards into the heavy liquid, the breath of the dead, and were sucked away. There would be no other way. That was how vengeance wanted it.

Red-gold light pulsed from within the chamber, blind, but bitter...

There would be no double failure.

---

Whew! There goes one fic. Chapters 3 and 4 are really screaming to be rewritten, though, so I'll go back to them someday. I'll do my best to resist the urge to continue this... @@;

Anyhow, I would REALLY appreciate some reviews. Please send me all your comments about the fic, and any suggestions. Should I do fics for 1-kun and 2-kun? Should I wipe this abomination off the site? Get a life? I love to please readers. ^^ *bows*


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